


Connor Walsh Doesn't Get Sick

by draeisbae



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draeisbae/pseuds/draeisbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Connor comes down with a cold, Oliver decides to take care of his boyfriend, and oh how he regrets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connor Walsh Doesn't Get Sick

“Connor, where do you think you’re going?”

Connor cursed from where he stood at the door. He had attempted to leave while Oliver went to the bathroom, but evidently he’d failed. “Hey! I was just gonna go..get your mail for you!”

Oliver stood just outside the bedroom door, arms crossed and brows raised. “Oh? Where’s the key?”

Connor stepped away from the door, feigning a look of innocence. “Key? W-what key?”

Oliver stepped closer to where his boyfriend stood, trying to hide’ his amusement. “The key. You know, the one that opens my mailbox, because it’s _locked_.

“Oh right, the key! Thanks for reminding me babe!” Connor pecked his boyfriend’s lips and moved to get the aforementioned key from the kitchen counter.

“Connor, you’re supposed to be in bed. You’re going to call in sick with Professor Keating and lay in bed while I make you some soup.”

Connor groaned and absolutely did not pout. He didn’t. “Ollie, I already told you, I’m not sick! Connor Walsh doesn’t get sick.”

“Well you know what Connor Walsh does do? Throw up twice in a row and go through a whole box of tissues in an hour. So. Go. To. Bed.” He waited for Connor to start moving before he followed.

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“Hey, I’m feeling a lot better! I think I’m gonna head to the office,” Connor explained to Oliver as he sat on the edge of the bed putting his shoes on. He stepped out of the room just as he finished buttoning his shirt.

Oliver scoffed quietly. “Okay if, you’re sure. Just drink this before you go.” He handed Connor a mug with a warm orange liquid that smelled of strawberry.

Connor drank the liquid obediently. Oliver counted down in his head _1, 2, 3, 4.._ Thank you Grandma. Connor’s eyes slowly fluttered shut and Oliver grabbed his boyfriend around the waist, steering him toward the bedroom. “Come on, you look like you could use a nap.”

“Mm, okay.”

Oliver adjusted Connor on the bed and laid a blanket over him. Just as he was closing the door, he heard him mumble, “Mm best boyfriend ever.” Oliver smiled sheepishly and closed the door, looking for his boyfriend’s phone so he could call Keating.

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“Connor I swear to-” Oliver was ready to yank his hair out! Or maybe Connor’s. Okay, so in hindsight, he knew that the sleep serum (courtesy of Granny Hampton) he’d slipped into Connor’s tea wouldn’t work forever, but if he’d known his boyfriend would be this annoying when he woke up, he would’ve added an extra dose..or three.

Connor blew his nose into a tissue, loudly. He hadn’t admitted to having the flu, but he’d stopped trying to get out of bed. What he hadn’t done was let Oliver close enough to take his temperature.

“Oliver, if you come near me with that thing, I’m gonna shove it up your ass,” Connor practically growled, trying to look menacing, though that was kind of hard with a pale face and red nose.

“Fine, then you’re gonna eat the soup I so kindly made you out of the goodness of my heart.”

“No! I don’t want to eat, I’m not hungry!”

Oliver narrowed his eyes, it was getting really hard to restrain from just slapping Connor upside the head. “Either you let me take your temperature or you eat some damn soup!”

Connor mirrored his boyfriend’s expression. “Neither.”

“Okay then. You’ll starve.” Oliver continued speaking just when Connor opened his mouth to interrupt. “ _And_ , not only will you not be sticking this thermometer up my ass, but nothing else is going up there either, for a whole _month_.” Oliver nearly burst out in laughter at the expression on Connor’s face. He didn’t think he could get any more pale after the flu, but he’d been proven wrong.  
  
"You wouldn’t dare,” Connor stated warily.

“Wouldn’t I? I’ve gone a lot longer without sex before than you. Besides, getting the flu isn’t my idea of afterglow.”

Connor sighed, mumbling under his breath about _fucking flu,_ and _blue balls, stupid boyfriend and his stupid fucking soup_ before seemingly giving in. “Fine! I’ll eat the fucking soup. But take out the carrots..and the peas. I fucking hate peas.”

“Yes dear.” Oliver couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face, even as Connor threw a pillow at his head. He was such a good boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Thoughts and requests always welcome:)


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